Abkhazia and the Russian Empire. Aslanbey: Myths and Facts, by Stanislav Lakoba

Translator’s note:

This chapter was first published as a separate brochure: S. Lakoba, Aslanbey: On the Question of Political Confrontation in Abkhazia in the First Third of the Nineteenth Century (Sukhum, 1999). It was subsequently incorporated into the present volume: Abkhazia after Two Empires. Nineteenth–Twenty-First Centuries: Essays (Abkhaziia posle dvukh imperii. XIX–XXI vv.), pp. 17-16. Slavic Research Centre, Hokkaido University, Sapporo, 2004 (Slavic Eurasian Studies, No. 5).

Aslan! I believe the fiction:
Your dagger weeps with your father’s blood!
— Viktor Strazhev

For many decades the dramatic events of Abkhaz political life in the first third of the nineteenth century, the question of the so-called ‘annexation’ of Abkhazia to Russia; the mystery and contradictions surrounding the unquestionably outstanding political figure of Aslanbey Chachba (Shervashidze), eldest son of Keleshbey, of whom K. Kudryavtsev remarked: ‘Arslanbey is the evil genius of Abkhazia at the beginning of the nineteenth century’¹, have aroused immense interest not only within Abkhaz society.

At various times this period of Abkhaz history has attracted the attention of a number of scholars and publicists, among whom special mention should be made of S. Bronevsky, N. Dubrovin, V. Potto, K. Machavariani, A. V. Fadeyev, I. G. Antelava, G. A. Dzidzaria and others. The principal documentary foundation for these works was the Akty, sobrannye Kavkazskoyu Arkheograficheskoyu Komissiyeyu [Acts Collected by the Caucasian Archaeographic Commission], 12 vols., Tiflis, 1866–1904 (hereafter — AKAK).²

Within this fundamental collection are concentrated dozens of basic documents from the first third of the nineteenth century, shedding light upon events in Abkhazia that were far from unequivocal. These include materials relating to the activities of the Abkhaz ruling prince Keleshbey, his eldest son Aslanbey, and also Seferbey.

It is striking that from the beginning of the nineteenth century there became established in Russian and later Soviet historiography the commonplace view that Keleshbey sought entry into Russia, and that his eldest son Aslanbey, in connection with this aspiration of his father, organised a conspiracy and allegedly murdered him. Through these studies, over almost two centuries, exclusively by means of bookish and literary propaganda consonant with official imperial doctrine, the thesis of the ‘parricide Aslanbey’ was instilled into Abkhaz public consciousness. Meanwhile, in popular memory Aslanbey lived an entirely independent and wholly different life, that of a national hero, the lawful ruling prince, who fought for the freedom of Abkhazia, as reflected also in Abkhaz folklore.

This was attested, in particular, by Viktor (V. I.) Strazhev (1879–1950), not only a poet and man of letters, but also an archaeologist and historian. He constitutes a rare exception in that he breaks from the generally accepted Russian-language line of texts on Aslanbey. Well acquainted with Abkhazia and having carefully studied historical sources, he as early as 1923 cast doubt upon Aslanbey’s involvement in the murder of Keleshbey. In his lyric poem Aslanbey appear the remarkably perceptive lines cited above. In a brief historical note to the poem Strazhev wrote of Aslanbey:

‘His stormy life passed in obstinate and cruel struggle with his brother (by another wife of Keleshbey) Seferbey and his nephews Dmitry and Mikhail, the subsequent rulers of Abkhazia.
A fierce opponent of the Russians, Aslan embodied the image of a hero, a fighter for independence, and so remained in the memory of his people.’³

It is noteworthy that the first report of the murder of Keleshbey was received by General Rykgof precisely from Seferbey — an interested party. On the basis of Rykgof’s information, on 19 May 1808 Count Gudovich sent a detailed report to Alexander I.⁴ On 8 June of that same year the ruler of Mingrelia, Nina Dadiani, wrote from Zugdidi to Count Gudovich,⁵ and on the same day addressed a petition to the Russian emperor.⁶ It was precisely in these documents that the official version of events in Abkhazia was set forth.

Remarkably, this point of view, without critical analysis of the sources, passed word for word into the works of Russian and Soviet historians. One is struck also by the selective use of ‘necessary’ documentary materials in these studies. None of the historians who specially examined the theme of Russia and Abkhazia at the beginning of the nineteenth century cited, for example, such an important piece of evidence as the letters mentioned by General Rykgof and addressed to him by Aslanbey himself, in which he spoke of his innocence and asserted that outsiders were implicated in his father’s murder.⁷

Another circumstance cannot but arouse suspicion. Seferbey, who claimed the Abkhaz throne, could not occupy it because he was the son of a peasant woman, a commoner. He was the lawful son of Keleshbey but, according to Abkhaz law, could not become ruling prince. Moreover, at the time of the murder, the Russian military command and tsarist administration regarded Keleshbey and his eldest son Aslanbey — the lawful heir — with extreme distrust. In political and military matters Russia in this region placed its hopes solely upon Mingrelia, and specifically upon Nina Dadiani, who shrank from nothing in satisfying both Russia’s appetites and her own ambitions.

Naturally, Nina Dadiani could not influence Abkhazia while Keleshbey or Aslanbey ruled. Yet both she and Russia found it entirely acceptable to rely upon the weak-willed Seferbey, who was the son-in-law of the Mingrelian ruler. This is stated quite openly in her aforementioned appeal of 1808 to Alexander I:

‘Thus, most autocratic sovereign, now is the opportune time to take Sefer-bek under Your protection, for he is a member [of our house] and our neighbour.’⁸

It should be specially noted that on the day of Keleshbey’s murder — 2 May 1808 — Seferbey was not in Sukhum-Kale and therefore could not have been an eyewitness. Nevertheless, the first detailed information was received by the Russian military command precisely from Seferbey, who accused his elder brother Aslanbey of his father’s death.

Why, on that fatal day, when Keleshbey gathered his most trusted men⁹ to discuss important matters, was Seferbey absent — being either in Nikopsia¹⁰ or in Lykhny (Souksu)?¹¹ Most likely, Seferbey deliberately defamed his elder brother Aslanbey, the lawful heir, who was unacceptable to the Russian command and to Nina Dadiani in that capacity. Only by blackening and slandering him could a formal pretext be found to deprive him of succession rights.

Even Count Gudovich, in his first report on the murder of Keleshbey, referring to the allegedly strained relations between father and son, was compelled to acknowledge that on the eve of Keleshbey’s death Aslanbey had managed to regain his father’s favour — or, literally, ‘had succeeded in acquiring his confidence’.¹²

The full article is available for download in PDF format (312 KB).

See also:

+ Abkhazia: History, 18th Century–1917, by Stanislav Lakoba

+ The Struggle for Power in Abkhazia Between the Sons of Keleshbey Chachba (1808–1810), by D. G. Tarba

+ The Abkhaz Principality in the Second Decade of the Nineteenth Century, by D. G. Tarba